


Sensitive Wings

by Amusedowl



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, POV Rhysand (ACoTaR), for an ask, wingspan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 11:12:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17744846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amusedowl/pseuds/Amusedowl
Summary: "I was re-reading acomaf today and got to the part where Feyre touched Rhysand's wing when he is flying. I was wondering if you could write that scene from Rhysand's pov." From an ask from @kingdom-of-sjm on Tumblr :)





	Sensitive Wings

The wind rushed past us as we flew towards the snowy mountains that disguised the hellish pit that lay beneath. Cassian and Azriel kept watch on either side of us for potential threats, and Feyre was bundled into my arms. I glimpsed her rosy cheeks from the cold and hair being whipped from side to side. I had been close to asking her not to come today, because of the horrors that might flood back from Under the Mountain when she steps inside. The Mother knew that I would be battling the thoughts when I went inside, but Feyre shouldn’t be burdened with it. All these thoughts were swirling in my head, but then I saw her looking at me with such determination, and knew that she really was willing to help, and I couldn’t take that away from her. Not like that bastard did.

 

I swooped past hills and rocky crags surrounding the mountain, holding Feyre tight. I tried to focus on getting to our destination, but I struggled to stop the worry of what waited inside bombarding my thoughts when Feyre was gripping my shoulders. She didn’t deserve to relive her nightmares again, and I didn’t want her to see the darker side of me I had to pretend to be when I entered the Hewn City. I hated it, but I forced myself to carry on. 

 

I must have been tense, because Feyre looked at my face, and said the oddest conversation starter I’d heard in a while.

“Amren and Mor told me that the span of an Illyrian male’s wings says a lot about the size of… other parts.” She shouted over the wind. If I hadn’t been so uneasy, I would have laughed. I almost stopped mid-air though. What on earth had made her tell me that? Was I that on-edge that she wanted me to loosen up? My eyes flitted to hers. They held amusement, and genuine wicked curiosity. 

“Did they now.” I replied, trying to hold my attention on where we were going. I knew I would eventually fail, but I had to try not to become too distracted.

I almost lost it when she said, “They also said Azriel’s wings were the biggest.” She was going to kill me one day with that sharp tongue, I was sure of it.

“When we return home, let’s get out the measuring stick, shall we?” I said, letting a hint of laughter fall into my voice.

I tilted my wings down and we plummeted down through the clouds, more out of a joke than practicality with my focus now set on Feyre. Her arms clung to my neck at our descent, and she let out a small scream.  Poor Cassian and Azriel must be wondering what the hell we were doing. I let out a small chuckle. 

“You’re willing to brave my brand of darkness and put up one of your own, willing to go to a watery grave and take on the Weaver, but a little free fall makes you scream?” I said incredulously.

A low hiss retorted, “I’ll leave you to rot the next time you have a nightmare.”

“No, you won’t. You like seeing me naked too much.” I joked.

Her cheeks reddened a bit more, and not from the roaring wind. “ _ Prick. _ ”

I chuckled again. Frankly, she was adorable when she was flustered.

 

As we glided over the snow-capped trees, she readjusted herself from the fall. When she moved her hands back down to my shoulders, I felt her knuckles graze over the inside of my wing.  _ Mother above.  _ It had to have been an accident by Feyre, but my whole body thrummed into attention. I forced my wings to keep beating, but they could have so easily snapped shut immediately. A shiver went down my spine at the contact, and I didn’t know whether to hope she would do it again or not. She was going to kill me.

I got an answer to my question, as her curiosity took over again. She ran a delicate finger along the underside of the thin membrane, right next to some sensitive nerve endings. I shuddered, the other parts she referred to minutes ago jerking awake, and I was unable to stop a groan slipping out of my mouth. My self-control was going to snap at any moment, I could feel it straining already.  _ Mother above.  _ is all I could think. My focus was on those wicked fingertips brushing my wing. She still wasn’t aware of the effect she was having on me. As much as I wanted her to carry on now, if she did, we would both fall out of the sky. Not to mention the jokes from Cassian and Azriel about it later.

“That, is very sensitive.” I barely choked it out. I couldn’t look at her now, otherwise I would completely lose it, so I settled for looking at the mountains. Anything to get my mind off the woman in my arms. 

It didn’t stop Feyre from asking, “Does it tickle?”

_ Does it tickle?  _ Was she being serious? It felt like my body had been asleep until she had brushed my wing, and then I had woken up. 

I pulled her body impossibly closer to mine, and leaned into her, brushing my lips against the shell of her ear.

“It feels like this.” I whispered, and sent a warm breath cascading down on her ear. Wicked delight flooded my senses when her body arched against mine, and I could have died there and then.

I explained to her about Illyrian tendencies to protect their wings, and how volatile some males can get when they are touched.

“And during sex?” Feyre blurted, cheeks turning more red.

I couldn’t stop myself from smirking at her after she asked. “An Illyrian male can find completion just by having someone touch his wings in the right spot.” Which was almost an accurate depiction of what would have happened to me if she hadn’t stopped.

“And have _ you _ found that to be true?” She asked. I hadn’t dared to look at her until now. Now I felt slightly uncomfortable.

“I’ve never allowed anyone to see or touch my wings during sex. It makes you vulnerable in a way I’m not...comfortable with.”

“Too bad.” She replied, turning her gaze toward the mountains we would soon be arriving at.

“Why?” I asked, unsure of her response. I could tell she was trying to fight back a smile, and a flicker of amusement involuntarily cast itself down the bond to me.

“Because,” She replied, “I bet you could get into some interesting positions with those wings.”

I laughed openly. I didn’t think it was possible to love a person more, yet I surprised myself each day, falling in love with Feyre more deeply each day. I nuzzled her ear, and knew then. My self control had broken, at least for this moment, as I readied myself to tell her my feelings for her. It didn’t have to be all of them now, but I wanted her to know at least part of his affections. It felt like it was only us in the sky for a moment until-

 

My wings snapped shut as I plunged away from the dark arrow that suddenly whizzed past us.


End file.
